


Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

by Vicky_V



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: 3_ships, I Saw Three Ships, Other, Post-Series, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky_V/pseuds/Vicky_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While unpacking her school trunk, Ginny finds a little scrap of paper. Then she starts to have dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChokolatteJedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/gifts).



> **Requested Element:** Sexy evil cohorts (or certainly getting there).  
> **Warning:** Mind-fuck, smutty near the end, dub-con (sorry, totally forgot that for the 3_ships archieve). There may be some slight squick element in that for most of the fic Tom appears as a schoolboy, as he did in The Chamber of Secrets, (but not for the smutty bit).  
> **Notes:** Slight spoilers for The Chamber of Secrets and The Deathly Hallows. Title taken from a song of the same name by Eurythmics.

** Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This **

It happened completely by accident. Ginny crouched underneath her bed coverers in her Gryffindor dormitory. In her left hand was held her wand, the tip of which was illuminated, only a little but it gave her just the amount of light she needed. In her right hand was clutched a quill, which she scratched furiously against the pages of the magical diary she had found amongst her school books. Leaned against the book, so it wouldn't fall and spill over the sheets, was a little ink pot, which she occasionally dipped the nib of her quill into and, out of habit, tapped it twice against the side to expel any stray ink which may drip and blot the page.

The hour was late and Ginny was tired, especially knowing she would have to hurry down to breakfast tomorrow in order to get to her Herbology lesson afterwards. But she also knew that she had started now, so had to finish. As fast as she could, she wrote to Tom Riddle everything she feared, everything which was now starting to connect together inside her mind. The strangled roosters, the messages in blood on the wall, those poor people who lay petrified in the infirmary. Could it be? Was it her?

What would people think? What would her family think? What would _Harry_ think? He would hate her. They would all hate her!

In her haste, Ginny pressed down hard with her quill and the bottom corner of the page she was writing on ripped off, bringing her to a sudden stop. She stared at it a moment, dumbfounded.

Then she scribbled a quick apology to Tom, which melted away into the paper.

_It's okay._ came a patient reply.

Ginny picked up the little ripped page corner and tucked it into the back of the book. Then she continued writing, knowing that she had to finish, knowing that she had to get it all out and knowing that Tom Riddle would understand.

***

When Ginny returned from her final year at Hogwarts, it was a while until she properly unpacked. At first her time was mostly taken up by the family coming round, wanting to celebrate the last of the Weasley children completing their wizarding education. Hermione also came to congratulate her on her good results, as did Harry.

One evening, a few months after Ginny's return from Hogwarts and when a Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to the heavy wind and snow, her eyes fell upon her school trunk. Supposing she had nothing better to do, Ginny started to unpack it.

One of the items inside was her old schoolbag. At the very bottom of that, she found a little scrap of paper which looked as though it were torn from the corner of a page. Ginny held it up into the light, frowning and thinking hard. She knew what it was. She just couldn't remember. But there was something very familiar about that little scrap of paper. Something important.

Ginny supposed that was why she didn't throw it away. Instead she tucked it into the back of her diary, where she noted down all the dates and times for Quidditch practice and job interviews.

***

Five years into her marriage with Harry, Ginny came across that scrap of paper again. It was when she was transferring items from her old bag, (whose handle had finally given up on coming loose and being stitched back so many times and broken for good), to a new one. As Ginny had enchanted her old bag to be bigger on the inside than it looked, as she had the new one, transferring items from one to the other took a while. When she started to get to the bottom, she began to find things which made her fear she was already turning into her mother. Things like wadded up tissues, crumbled sweet wrappers and small change which she had just tossed inside when there had been nowhere else to put them.

At the very bottom, she came across a little scrap of paper which looked as though it had been torn from the corner of a page. Ginny looked at it for a moment, with the feeling that she knew what it was but unable to remember exactly. In the end she slipped it into the back of her current dates diary, which she mostly used for scribbling down her practices and games with the Holyhead Harpies, with the thought that she would probably remember later.

This time she kept the scrap of paper close, recalling how she had found it in her schoolbag years ago and forgotten it overnight. She still knew there was something important about it but couldn't for the life of her remember what. If it had been inside her schoolbag then it was undoubtedly something to do with Hogwarts. And her time spent there had been the most precious in her life; where she had refined her skills and made so many good friends. And met Harry Potter.

Ginny kept her diary out of her bag when she was at home, constantly having to open it and make little notes. Keeping it out, she found, was much easier than having to rummage around in her bag all the time.

She was also a smart girl. So, after she found that scrap of paper and slipped it into her diary, she was able to connect that to the dreams she suddenly started to have. While she slept, she kept the diary upon the top of the draws beside her bed, in case she should ever find herself having to scribble down something in the middle of the night. So far, she had never come across the need. But it seemed she had also become her mother in her 'you never know' attitude to some things.

The dreams were vague at first and they only came sometimes. Whenever Ginny woke from those dreams, she knew she'd had them but the recollection swiftly faded away. She would struggle to remember the smiles and the way hair fell when a head was slightly tilted and how there was a look in a pair of eyes which would make her heart flutter.

But then the memories would be gone and Ginny would be left unsure as to why her chest felt so tight.

***

The sensation was like falling. Half-knowing that she was asleep, Ginny kept expecting to feel her body jolt as she woke.

And it did. Ginny felt her body jolt, but she did not wake. Instead her body gave a start because she landed, although Ginny wasn't entirely sure she had been falling. There was a dark haze all around her, thick and impenetrable but Ginny didn't feel in the least bit afraid. This was her dream for a start so why should she be?

Then suddenly there was a person in front of her. A boy who looked to be in his teenage years, about fifteen or so was Ginny's immediate guess. He was tall with dark hair and rather good-looking, which brought on the embarrassing feeling of schoolgirl bashfulness in Ginny. But there were two other things which caught her interest. The first was that the boy was transparent. Secondly, he was in a Hogwarts uniform. Slytherin house.

"Who are you?" Ginny asked. She suddenly had the feeling she should remember who he was, exactly as she felt she should remember where the little scrap of paper was from. In her mind, things started to connect. "Are you anything to do with the piece of paper that's in my diary?"

"Clever girl," the boy nodded and smiled. "Although," his eyes looked Ginny up and down, "more woman now I suppose."

"And how exactly are you connected with the diary?" Ginny squared her shoulders. "I get the feeling I should remember you."

"Oh and you will," said the boy, then he added with a sudden malicious grin, "when I want you to."

The feeling of uneasiness squelched in Ginny's stomach. A faint memory flickered in the back of her mind, but she wasn't able to grasp it. The only thing she managed to vaguely recall was that it had been something bad.

"But don't worry about it, Ginny," the boy said. The malicious grin vanished and Ginny suddenly found herself beginning to doubt it was ever there. "The only memories I blocked are those you have of me and nothing more. And this is only because I wish for another chance."

Ginny felt her head tilt to the side in curiosity. "Oh?"

"I've made a few mistakes in my life, Ginny," said the boy. "But surely you must believe that I wish to make up for it. For years I've been trying to gather the strength to face you. After it took ten to take all those terrible memories from your mind, all I can do is this so far." The boy gestured to himself and his faded form. Ginny noted that his feet were now almost completely invisible.

While she found herself nodding, Ginny still dipped down one eyebrow and pointed out, "the fact you've wiped my mind of whoever you are doesn't give me good reason to trust you."

"This is your domain, Ginny," said the boy, swinging his arms out, this time gesturing to their hazy surroundings. "You know your own mind so this is where you're in control. I only ask for one chance." The boy reached out one hand and suddenly looked rather sorrowful. "Just one, if you please Ginny."

He suddenly looked so crazed and cold. Evil was the word which came to Ginny's mind.

Then he was kind and understanding again.

What had she just been trying to keep in mind?

Suddenly Ginny felt her body jolt as she woke up and she felt as though she had just been falling. She lay there for a moment, in the darkness of the very early morning, letting her breathing become steady and her heartbeat return to normal. Then she nodded once.

***

For a while, Ginny continued to feel wary of the Hogwarts boy who suddenly began to appear in her dreams. He admitted to wiping her memory of something for a start and then said he wanted to make up for it. Those two points alone made her feel cautious.

But, on the other hand, he did seem genuinely sorry. Or at least Ginny thought he did. Sometimes she thought she caught him with a wicked glint in his eyes or with a nasty, plotting grin. But the very next second those looks would be gone into nothing but a fading memory which she couldn't quite remember properly and Ginny was left with that uneasy feeling; like that one she got after she awoke from a nightmare she couldn't quite recall.

It seemed wrong to refer to him in her mind as a boy. While he held the appearance of a teenage pupil at Hogwarts, he was definitely older than that. He told Ginny all about when he was a student, including what Hagrid had been like when he too was a boy, (not much different to the Hagrid she knew), and what Dumbledore was like as a Transfiguration professor (brilliant, but Ginny expected as such).

He seemed a nice enough boy and gave Ginny no reason to doubt otherwise. But, although she asked often enough, he would never give his name. Instead he just smiled kindly and said he would someday, which Ginny believed.

She found herself listening to him, telling him things, laughing with him, sharing those little lingering looks and those certain small smiles. There was still that feeling in the back of her mind, trying to tell her that whatever was happening was a bad idea. The fact that he was able to wipe a piece of her memory and wouldn't give away his name should be enough to tell her that she can't trust him.

But those were Ginny's dreams. It was her realm. She could banish him if she really wanted to. But she didn't. Because growing up as the youngest in such a big family meant having to share everything practically all the time; the eggs when they were dished up for breakfast, a room when they had visitors staying, hand-me-down robes and school books. Then the having to share went on now she was married to Harry; the bathroom, the kitchen, the bed. She loved Harry, she really _really_ did, but now she had something which was just _hers_ and she wanted to keep it all to herself for a little while longer.

That was why she never told Harry about it. Or anybody else. She never shared with another sole about how she saw the boy in her dreams more and more until it was at least once a week. She moved the little scrap of paper from where it was kept tucked into the back of her diary to underneath her pillow. That made the boy's form became clearer. Not very much, but Ginny was able to notice.

Suddenly she realised it had been going on for five months. She was now having the same dreams almost every night, where she would see the nameless Hogwarts boy and tell him just about everything. It was like pouring out her heart and soul into him, to which he would smile nicely and nod patiently and offer the right words in the right places. During those months, the feeling of uncertainty which had been scratching lightly in the back of her mind faded.

But still she didn't tell anybody about anything that happened in her dream world. While she was awake, she never spoke a word about the Hogwarts boy in the Slytherin uniform or how he was so kind to her when she ranted about something which had gone wrong at Quidditch practice or sobbing because something had happened that day to remind her of Fred. She didn't tell about the brief little flickers of malice she sometimes thought she saw in the boy but was never really sure as to whether or not they were actually there. She certainly said nothing about those understanding smiles. And she didn't utter a word about when she had been talking to the boy, laying down while resting her head against his thigh. The boy leaned down, slowly. She'd had plenty of time to get away. Except she didn't. Ginny allowed him to plant that soft kiss against her lips.

The sensation of lips joining plunged straight into her heart and hurt. In a good way. She had come to crave those dreams when she fell asleep, feeling satisfied and refreshed when she woke up should she have them and disappointed when she didn't.

Of course he was just a boy. Or looked like one. But there was something about the look in his eyes and the way his hair would move just a little whenever his head tilted. Whenever it crossed her mind, her heart pounded, her cheeks grew hot and it felt like tumbling head over heels in love all over again.

Just like with Harry.

"I'm married," she told him, but not with nearly as much protest as she thought she might.

The boy smiled, having only drawn away a little. "So bring him next time."

Ginny smiled, wondering why she hadn't thought of that herself.

***

That night, Ginny went to bed long after Harry did, wanting to make sure he would be asleep. She still hadn't uttered a single word to him or anybody about the dream world she entered most of the time when she was asleep now. That place would no longer be just hers.

But Ginny found she didn't mind that. The ring she wore on her finger meant she would be sharing the rest of her life with Harry, even though some things took longer to share than others. And she was sure he would like the boy. Although, whoever he was, he technically wasn't a boy as he could remember a time at Hogwarts which had taken place long before either Ginny or Harry were born. So that would make him old enough to be their fathers at least. Yet somehow the knowledge of his appearance and his actual age didn't concern Ginny in any way. All she knew was that things had changed in her dream world. It started as a friendship where anything could be talked about. Words brought them closer and then bound them together. Looks of warmth turned to those of heat.

And now she would share that with Harry.

Linking their fingers together with one hand, Ginny reached underneath her pillow with the other and took hold of the little scrap of paper. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

***

Within her dream realm, Harry's image was much clearer than that of the Hogwarts boy. In fact, there was no transparency whatsoever, which pleased Ginny. But while his image was before her eyes, his mind had yet to catch up. Harry seemed groggy and unsure, which Ginny found fair enough. This was probably the first time he had ever been pulled into another person's dreams, (although she wasn't entirely sure exactly how she did it). She supposed it must be something to do with the boy.

At the very thought of him, he was there. The boy in Slytherin uniform appeared before her, with a warm smile and a loving look in his eye. For half a second, Ginny thought she saw something else in his eyes which was cold and frightening. Then it vanished and she was left wondering if it had ever really been there, like a rapidly fading dream in the back of her mind.

Then she wasn't sure what she was trying to remember, so pushed the concern from her mind.

When she closed her eyes, she imagined the boy in a different, older appearance, with his cheeks thinned through coming into adulthood and his eyes deeper with gained knowledge. His hair perhaps shorter, but with a long way to go before it would start to thin.

Ginny felt him kiss her and her eyelashes fluttered. As they did, she caught glimpses of the adult she imagined. The image flickered between that and the boy. She felt his arms slide around her waist and his fingers link together over the small of her back in a strong and confident hold. That was when Ginny remembered that this was her realm. So when she opened her eyes, he was no longer a boy. His cheeks were thinner, his eyes were deep, his hair was a little shorter and he had become the image of a man who just about anybody would jump upon if they could.

And Ginny certainly could.

The next kiss was one she started, taking the sides of his face in her hands and angling her head to make it as deep as she could. She felt him sigh into her mouth and then the flicker of his tongue against her bottom lip.

"Ginny!"

She broke away from the man and turned in the hold he had on her. Harry had gained his senses back and kept his distance as he stared at them. His fists clenched and unclenched with uncertainty at his sides and he was looking at them with a mixture of horror and shock. That Ginny would give him, but she was also sure he would come to understand in a moment. Somehow she just got that feeling.

"Ginny, you shouldn't," Harry said. "He-"

Harry kept on talking, but no sound came out of his mouth at all. His jaw just moved silently up and down. Quickly, Harry stopped trying to speak and looked puzzled for a moment.

"Don't you see?" he tried again. "That man! It's-"

Whatever he was trying to tell her, it wouldn't be said. Harry kept trying all the same, rephrasing it but always ending up with no absolutely no sound coming from between his lips whenever he attempted in any way to reveal the identity of the man with his arms around Ginny.

She looked round to the man, hoping for an explanation. Then she realised. He didn't want his identity revealed yet. But Ginny trusted him. It was a feeling she couldn't explain and didn't know where it came from. So she just went with it.

The man tightened the grip he had around Ginny's waist and rested his chin upon one of her shoulders. She shuddered a little and a tingle ran down her spine when she felt his warm breath against her neck.

"Come on, Potter," he said, reaching out one hand. "I've heard _so_ much about you."

His emphasis upon his words caused Ginny to blush. It would be no lie to say that she shared practically everything with this man, just as she had her with old diary when she was a young girl. The difference being she hadn't had such intimate details to share back then.

Whatever Harry had been wanting to tell her, he'd stopped trying. But Ginny knew Harry and could see he was thinking hard, trying to figure out a way to bring the message across without the interference of the man draped over her.

"Come on, Harry," she said, feeling herself becoming impatient. "It's okay, really. You'll like him."

He still looked unsure.

This was Ginny's dream, so this was her realm and she wanted him to be willing. So he was.

Suddenly he was there. Ginny couldn't recall him changing his mind in any way or moving towards them, but that was quickly dismissed from her mind because she didn't care. He was there and she was there and the other man was there and that was all she cared about.

She closed her eyes and let her mind control how things tangled together and worked. Harry's hand upon her hips, then sliding up, pulling at her nightclothes. Then his hands on her skin, because that was what Ginny wanted and so that was what she made happen. She felt the breath of the man against her neck and then it was replaced by his teeth and lips. Ginny tilted her head, exposing more of her throat to him.

With her eyes closed, things whirled around her, made her dizzy, made her heart pound, made her breath come short and quick from between her parted lips. There were Harry's lips against hers, his hands on her waist and her chest and her stomach. She squeezed his hips with her thighs and rolled her head back as he pushed up and into her. Ginny could always feel that man pressed up against her back, tracing patterns over her skin and nipping lightly at her shoulders. His fingers teased around her sides and slipped up Harry's arms and into his hair more often than not as the man chuckled.

***

When Ginny woke up, it was again with a jolt to her body, as though she had just been falling. For a moment, her mind was hazed and confused, wondering what had happened before she came to realise that she was lying in her own bed. She let out the breath she had been holding, then moaned softly and shifted. There was still heat inside her body which was deep and pounding and intense between her legs.

She looked to her right, where her fingers were still linked with Harry's. His eyebrows twitched downwards briefly, as did the corners of his mouth as he started to come out of his own slumber.

Ginny helped him back into the real world by lightly pressing a kiss against his lips. Her mind was already working, plotting and planning as to how she would be able to spend such a night again.

** _END..._ **


End file.
